


Strangers

by brokenbutstillstanding



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Dissociation, F/M, Hallucinogenic drugs, Lots of Angst, PTSD, Threats of non-con, no non-con actually happens, torture mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-12-07 21:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenbutstillstanding/pseuds/brokenbutstillstanding
Summary: Effie was optimistic, not delusional. She knew that she would never be like her victors. They were hardened, they had killed and fought for their lives, they valued practicality over gaudiness. She, on the other hand, was a Capitol princess. She’d been raised in the lap of luxury, she had never wanted for anything, she was almost always dripping in jewels and the latest couture, she had never felt true hunger a day in her life (until now that is). Still, despite their differences she had been under the impression that the four of them were a team. A family of sorts. She cared for each of them, and she had thought they cared for her too. She was wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on doing Haymitch's POV of this chapter too and then possibly one or two more chapters to wrap things up! Let me know what you think!

Effie was optimistic, not delusional. She knew that she would never be like her victors. They were hardened, they had killed and fought for their lives, they valued practicality over gaudiness. She, on the other hand, was a Capitol princess. She’d been raised in the lap of luxury, she had never wanted for anything, she was almost always dripping in jewels and the latest couture, she had never felt true hunger a day in her life (until now that is). Still, despite their differences she had been under the impression that the four of them were a team. A family of sorts. She cared for each of them, and she had thought they cared for her too. She was wrong.

The second the arena had exploded into chaos she knew they were involved. She was glad of course, she hadn’t wanted to watch Katniss and Peeta die in that horrible place. The part that stung was that just moments before Haymitch had left. He’d given her an uncharacteristic kiss on the cheek and walked out the door. She had assumed he was leaving to go drink himself into another stupor, the games were always hard for them both (she was, however, willing to admit they were harder on him). She was wrong.

The peacekeepers had come for her not even ten minutes after. They demanded she come with them, and despite her volume they refused to answer any of her questions. Panic seized her, she had no idea where any of them were. Where were the kids? What happened to Haymitch? Were they okay? She didn't know the extent of what they had orchestrated until she was sitting at a cold steel table across from an interrogator. She thought they would ask her a few questions and release her. She was wrong.

Her bracelet was how they had done it, they told her. The one she had given to Haymitch as a sign of their unity as a team, as a sign of her devotion to them all. The very bracelet he had leant to Finnick (only a loan he’d told her) as his token for the arena. That very bracelet was how they had communicated, how they had come together to pull all this off. At that very moment she saw things for what they really were, that they had blindsided her, they had hung her out to dry. She thought she mattered to them. She was wrong.   
……………………………

She wanted to be angry with them, but she couldn't seem to feel anything above the cold shock of betrayal that was left ringing in her gut for days to come. She sat and stared at the iron bars of her cell for what seemed like hours, just passing the time until they came to collect her again.

The first time she cried was when they shaved her head. It wasn’t the loss of her hair that bothered her, she much preferred her wigs to her natural hair anyways, rather it was the pure degradation of the act. A boot pressed to her cheek, wrists pinned to the floor, jeers and laughter louder than the buzzing of the razor.

“You gonna cry for us, princess?” 

She tried not to, but she did.  
………………………………

She felt a flicker of hope the longer she stayed there. Despite the humiliating torture they were putting her through she had learned quite a few things being locked up. For one, Katniss and Haymitch had escaped. The second thing was that she wasn't alone, among others who had been taken in to be questions were Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta and Peeta. She felt her stomach drop out from under her when she realized he was trapped just as she was, but a seed of hope rooted its way into her heart. Katniss wouldn't leave Peeta here. They would come for him, which meant maybe they were coming for her too. Maybe they hadn't forgotten about her, hadn't thrown her away and used her like a pawn.

She was so tired of being wrong.

She supposed it made sense in the end. Johanna Mason was one of the best fighters she had ever seen, they would need her for the resistance. Finnick Odair would never leave Annie Cresta in a place like this, he was so in love with her she was almost blinded by the sight. Peeta…she knew they were coming for him from the beginning. Still, hearing the guards speak about the rescue mission, how very close she was to tasting fresh air again, did something very terrible to her insides.

The next time they took her was the first time she wanted to die. They were angry, oh so very angry at the loss of their prisoners. Although there was no way she could have known about it, they decided to take it out on her anyways. It was the same questions every time

“Where is Katniss Everdeen?”

Waterboarding 

“Where is Haymitch Abernathy?” 

Electrocution 

“What are they planning?”

Beatings 

No matter how many times she told them she didn't know, they either never seemed to believe her or just enjoyed hurting her too much to stop.

Even if she had known anything of value she wouldn't have told them. Effie Trinket is not a woman to be bullied into submission. Not anymore at least, not after years of dealing with a certain Haymitch Abernathy. 

Her heart hurt to think of him. She knew he had never liked her, but she had foolishly assumed they were growing closer before this all blew up in their faces. The kiss on her cheek before he walked out the door the last time she saw him was bittersweet now. At the time she had been confused, but now she understood. He knew this was going to happen to her when they left. Was that his way of silently apologizing? She didn't think so. She had never heard that man apologize in all the time she had known him.

She could take it all. The beatings, the whipping, the starvation and thirst, the cuts and bruises, the shocks and choking, the threats of rape and hands that wandered just enough to tell her if she didn’t start to cooperate that they would make good on it, nothing hurt nearly as badly as remembering what a fool she had been to think they had actually cared about her. Why would they? She was a Capital dog just like the rest of them.

She couldn't feel much anymore beyond consistent pain throughout her body. She had almost grown used to it at this point, learning to tune herself out when it became unbearable. Those moments of her eyes glazing over while she faintly hummed a song her Mother used to sing her when she was a child became the sweetest respite from this hell. There was no more hope for her to be rescued. She didn’t dare think of it any longer.  
………………………….

They found her weak point when they started to give her some sort of hallucinogenic drug. She would feel the sharp prick of the needle in her neck and then familiar faces would surround her. Of Katniss and Peeta untying her bonds, of Haymitch bursting through the door and giving her one of his famous glares

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Over and over again. The first time she had almost fallen for it, but when Haymitch stepped closer to help her up she caught a whiff of him through her bloody nose and her heart sank. Sandalwood. That wasn’t Haymitch. He was a mixture of pine, whiskey and the generic brand of soap he always used despite her purchasing nicer ones for him.

After that they would do it over and over, but each time they would get something little wrong. Haymitch would be missing that small scar on the right side of his neck, Peeta’s eyes were the wrong shade of blue, Katniss didn’t have the small gap in-between her left canine and incisor. It didn’t make it hurt any less though, the constant reminder of what she thought she’d had. Of what she’d lost.  
……………………….

The banging and shouting woke her up, although just barely. She could still feel her cheek and nose throbbing from her earlier interrogation session and the dried blood stuck to her itchy skin uncomfortably. She didn’t recall being injected with anything, but she surmised they must have done it while she was sleeping because there was no way Haymitch Abernathy was standing at her cell door, flanked by a few other people she didn't recognize with weapons.

“One of you help her, We haven’t found her yet so I’m going to keep looking.” He commanded and turned on his heel to leave.

Before he could she made a hoarse sound in the back of her throat that somewhat resembled his name. Even though she knew he wasn't real, she couldn't stand to see him walk away. The fake Haymitch turned and his gray eyes widened almost imperceptibly. They got his eye color exactly right this time, she mused to herself in somewhat of a haze.

“Effie?” He sounded unsure. That was new. In all the other simulations he’d known who she was immediately.

He searched her face for something and must have found it because he wrestled the key to the cell from one of the armed men fumbling to unlock it and did the job for him, stepping into her own personal hell with her.

“Effie? Oh my God. Hey, you’re alright now. Can ya hear me, sweetheart?”

Bingo. That was the giveaway. Haymitch used that pet name for her quite often, but never without an undercurrent of disdain or a mocking tone. The real Haymitch would never be looking her her like that. Talking to her like that. Like he cared.

“We’re getting you out of here. I’m so sorry.”

Bingo again. Haymitch didn’t apologize. Ever. She wheezed out a little laugh, it sounded slightly deranged even to her own ears and it stopped the fake Haymitch in his tracks and he looked at her warily.

“You aren’t real.” She sing songed in that same hoarse voice. Hoarse from screaming or lack of use she didn't know.

Fake Haymitch looked unsure now.

“I am real. I’m here. I’m sorry it took so long, my God what…you look…” he couldn't seem to decide how to end his sentence so she saved him the trouble.

“You think you’re so smart. You always miss something. I know it isn’t really him, so just hit me already and get on with it.”

Fake Haymitch flinched away from her.

“I’m not gonna hit you. I’m getting you out of here. You need a doctor.” He argued

She laughed that airy unstable laugh again.

“Effie, come on-“

He stepped towards her and reached out to grab her under her arms and that when she started to panic. They had never made physical contact with her during the simulations except for the first time when she’d been caught off guard. She always saw through their game before they could get to it. She didn’t wanna think about what it meant that they were now. Would they make him hit her? Torture her? Make good on what the leers and wandering hands promised? She didn’t think she cold take it if they did. She could handle them hurting her, but not the image of Haymitch. Not him or the kids. Touch meant pain, and she couldn't let him hurt her. She would break, she was sure of it.

“No! No, stop it! Don’t touch me!” Her voice was still grainy and choked up but her voice raised and the look in her eyes must have spoken volumes because fake Haymitch stopped and put his hands in the air placatingly. 

Her own were out in front of her as if to stop him from advancing, though she knew she couldn't stop him if he really wanted to. She was in the Capital’s playground now. They could do whatever they’d like to her.

“Effie- Sweetheart, no one is going to hurt you. We just wanna get you to a doctor.” He sounded incredibly pained even through her haze

“Nonononononono” she just kept repeating, head tucked into her shoulder and hands still in front of her.

She heard some faint arguing and some footsteps before she opened her eyes again. Fake Haymitch was gone. They must be done with the simulation for today. Now they would hurt her and leave her alone. She wanted to be alone. 

The two armed men she didn’t recognize stepped up, she figured they must be from the Capital too.

“Come on. We’re going to help you up, okay?” One of them asked

She didn't know why they were asking her. She didn’t have much of a choice but to do what they said. They had to help her to her feet, her skin crawling at the contact, but she used what strength she had left to try to take a step forward. She ended up collapsing, her bony arms hitting the concrete with a bang.

“I’m gonna have to pick you up.” She didn’t know which one of them that was this time. She just wanted to go away now, into her own head like she usually did. 

So thats what she did as she felt her feet lift off the ground.  
…………………………………

When she woke up she was in a white room. She felt soft fabric over her body and heard loud beeping next to her ear. Was that what had woken her up? It took effort to pry her eyes open and when she did the beeping sped up ever so slightly.

Fake Haymitch was back. He was sitting in a chair next to her bed in what looked like some sort of makeshift hospital room. He looked up from his book as soon as he heard the rhythm pick up and set it down hastily.

“Effie…”

This was wildly different from any simulations. Her mind raced, what were they playing at now? She started her search, looking for that tiny detail that would point him out to her as a part of the drug. She had to admit they had done a pretty good job this time. His eyes were the same steel gray as always, his hair was scruffier but the same shade, the scar was right there on his neck where it should be, they even got the smell right this time. She tried not to inhale the pine, soap and whiskey scent too obviously. 

“How are you feeling? The kids wanna come see you but they are pretty banged up as it is, I told ‘em to rest until you were feeling a little better.” If this wasn’t part of a simulation she would have laughed at him trying to fill the silence. Thats usually what she was good for.

“Hey…uh, what are you looking at?” She was still scrutinizing every part of him and he’d noticed.

“Looking for the mistake.” She explained.

He didn’t seem to understand.

“What do you mean? Mistake?”

“Yeah. You guys always mess up. You forget something. I’m impressed, you got his eyes right this time. His scar. Even the smell but there has to be something.” She continued her search.

Fake Haymitch seemed frustrated.

“You aren’t there anymore. We came and got you out of there, you are resting here at District 13. The doctor should be by soon. What can I do to prove it to you?” He spoke.

She shook her head as a response. 

“The first time I ever met you, you were wearing a ridiculous pink wig that had different colored balls stuck in it. It was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. That prove it's me?”

She didn’t know why he was bringing that up now.

“That was televised. Anyone could know that.” She retorted.

“Okay, fine. Last year for my birthday you got me a watch and told me I could use it since I’m always late to shit. Then I threw it away.”

“I gave that to him at a sponsor party. It was pretty public.” She didn’t buy it.

Fake Haymitch was getting more fidgety now.

“The last time you saw me, in real life I mean not as some fucking hallucination, I kissed you on the cheek before I left.”

“Security cameras. I’m sure you’ve gone over all the surveillance footage.” She closed her eyes.

“Goddamnit, Effie!” She jumped at the roar, his fist hitting the table next to her bed loudly and the beeping sped up. Was this it? Was this when they’d make him hurt her? She hadn’t meant to make them mad. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself.

“Shit- I- Effie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I’m terrible at this.” 

He sounded so dejected she couldn't help but sneak a peek at him. His head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees in silence.

He really was convincing. He’d never been this convincing before.

“Okay.” She said

“Okay?” He echoed

“If you’re real, then I’m either dead or I’ve finally gone crazy. I hope I’m not dead, because that means you’re dead too. I wouldn’t mind if I’m crazy. I wouldn’t hurt anymore.” She reasoned out loud.

“What- no, Effie you aren't dead or crazy. I told you, we got you out of there. They can’t hurt you anymore, I swear. You’ve got a whole district of people they’d have to get through and even then I guarantee they couldn’t get through me.” He looked like he was going to grab her hand but at her flinch he decided against it.

She was quiet for a moment too long for it to be comfortable and he jumped up.

“Wait- here, look. This prove I’m me yet?” He reached into his pocket and brought out a shining golden bangle and extended it to her.

After a lengthy silence she reached out and took it, the bracelet just as weighty as she remembered. She traced the designs on it in wonder as her mind worked a million miles an hour. Finnick had this with him, and Finnick was still alive (she was certain of it, they’d have bragged about it to her if he wasn’t) which meant-

“Haymitch?” She dropped the bracelet and looked at him with wide startled eyes, voice disbelieving. 

He gave her a weak smile.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Her brain was racing, if she was here then that meant- and- and they- her breathing got faster and faster and the beeping sped up rapidly

“Hey-“ Haymitch looked alarmed

He couldn’t finish his thought before there was a ton of commotion, someone in a white coat yelling, Haymitch yelling, her head feeling light as she gasped for breath, the beeping getting louder and a sharp pain in her neck before the world went black.  
……………………………

Haymitch was sitting in her room again when she woke. The real one. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around it.

“I had to promise to behave myself.” He said when he noticed her blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“I really am sorry, Effie. We never meant for any of this to happen, you’ve gotta believe me.”

She didn’t know what to say. She was feeling so many things, anger, happiness, grief, loneliness, betrayal. She decided not to say anything at all, she didn’t know what might come out. The silence stretched out until Haymitch tried breaking the ice again

“I get if you don’t wanna talk to me, or see me, and I’ll go if you want me to but I had to make sure you were gonna make it…” 

Silence.

“Please. Say something.” She had never heard him beg before.

So she did.

“Go.”

So he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's Haymitch's POV! I really enjoyed writing for him. I'm not sure how long I want this story to be yet, but fear not it will have a happy ending regardless if it is 2 more chapters or 50!

Haymitch was a pessimist. He knew that about himself. He didn’t regret it one bit either. The world was out to get him in the most painful and drawn out way possible. So he guessed it made sense that after all these years of pain the pinnacle of it had to come around sooner or later.

He hated not telling her what was going on. He trusted Effie. The kids trusted Effie. The rest of the resistance? Not so much. So he kept quiet, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked as ridiculous as ever, wine glass in hand with the rim stained bright purple from her lipstick. Her dress matched, the sleeves puffy enough that he figured he could fit easily into just one. Her face was white as a ghost, matching her wig that towered sky high as she gazed at the television. She had been glued to it since the kids had been dropped into the arena, he could see the worry lines starting to crease her makeup and the bottle of wine in front of her was halfway gone. Maybe he was a bad influence after all, he would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been what it was. 

Truth be told he had no idea what was going to happen. If he were an optimist he would hope that after he was gone they would question Effie and let her go when they realized she didn’t know anything, but Haymitch was a pessimist at heart. They wouldn’t let her go. They might even hurt her. He could only hope they wouldn’t kill her. He tried to memorize the angle of her jaw, the slope of her nose, the color of her natural eyes before he stood. He halfheartedly wished he knew her natural hair color so he could memorize that too.

He stood, knowing she wouldn’t question him. She never did anymore, half the time she didn’t want to know the answer anyways. He couldn’t stop his impulses as he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek lightly, tasting the powder from her face on his lips as he withdrew and headed for the roof all the while feeling her startled gaze on his back.  
…………………………………

He barely had time to sleep anymore with all the planning and scheming going on, but when he did get that rare moment of respite his thoughts would always turn to her. He hadn’t heard a thing, despite asking around, so he could only assume one of two things: either Effie had been captured, or she was dead. He selfishly hoped it was the first one.

When the rescue mission returned with Peeta, Annie and Johanna, he hadn’t been thinking about her at all. Peeta’s condition was worrisome enough. So he wasn’t expecting it when Annie (under Finnick’s arm, always within Finnick’s grasp now) sought him out and dropped a bombshell on him.

“I saw her there.”

Haymitch paused mid sip from his flask.

“Who?” He probably could have been nicer about it, but his hangover was killing him today and he couldn't help the gruffness in his voice.

“Your escort. The woman you are always on television with.” She finished in that airy tone of hers.

Suddenly his hangover didn’t seem so bad anymore. 

“Effie? Where? Where did you see her?” He reached out to grab her arm reflexively but Finnick’s harsh stare stopped him before he could get there.

“In the prison. With me and Johanna and Peeta.” She frowned at the memory.

“Was she alive? Okay?” He tried to grasp at straws. She had been right there, they could have saved her too.

He had other questions too, selfish ones like did she hate him now? Did she even want to see him again? Did she think of him as often as he did of her, even when she tried desperately not to?

“She was alive the last time I saw her.” Annie artfully dodged his second question, something that didn’t escape Haymitch’s notice.

He wanted to get her, to bring her back with their team, but they didn’t have the time or the resources.

So with a spark of hope in his chest he gritted his teeth and continued on.  
………………………..

It had been months and Haymitch’s pessimistic side began to rear its ugly head again in the dead of night. 

When he was quietly working on plans

It's been too long, she's probably dead by now.

In the dead of night while he was trying to catch a few hours of valuable sleep

She probably hates your guts. You left her there, knowing full well this would happen.

In the middle of a fight

You treated her just like one of those other Capital monsters.

Sometimes he really hated being a pessimist.  
…………………………..

The day was finally here. Things were over. They’d won. Now all that was left was to clean up the mess they’d made, and he made sure they started with the prison the Capital was keeping the rebels in. Even though he knew it was futile a tiny voice in the back of his head whispered that Effie might still be here.

They’d found a few people here and there in their cells. Civilians, members of the Capital brought in for questioning, and more than a few dead bodies.

A few cells later they found another person, alive by the looks of it. The woman looked an awful sight, almost skeletal with her rags nearly falling off her thin frame. Her hair had been choppily cut and had so much dirt and blood in it he struggled to tell its natural color, although he thought it might be blonde. He could barely make out any features, in fact, with all the cuts and bruises covering her body. He took note of the whip marks on her back and the scars that were forming, but her hands were soft. This woman likely had never done a day of hard labor in her life. She was probably another unlucky Capital dog, stuck in here to be tortured to death as a result of what he’d done. Of what they’d done.

He had notified the two resistance soldiers with him about Effie, told them to keep an eye out for her. They were here to help as many people as they could, but he didn't make it a secret that he was looking for her.

“One of you help her, We haven’t found her yet so I’m going to keep looking.” He commanded, turning to search the next few cells.

Thats when he heard it, stopping in his tracks. It was hoarse, but undoubtedly an attempt at his name. That voice, even through the roughness he heard the undercurrent of familiarity. He turned back around to face her.

“Effie?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, he didn't know if he hoped it was her or not. He wanted to find her of course, but this…this had gone beyond his expectations of what they’d do to her.

He studied her face, and underneath all the puffiness and bruises and blood he saw it. He still remembered it clear as day, going back to the moment he last saw her in person. The angle of her jaw. The slope of her nose.

“Effie? Oh my God. Hey, you’re alright now. Can ya hear me, sweetheart?”

He didn’t care if he sounded soft. His only goal was to get her out of that cell and to get her to a doctor. He didn’t like the blood pooled around her. The soldier next to him who had been clumsily fumbling with the key to the cell staggered back as he ripped them from his grasp, neatly inserting it into the lock and pushing the door open with a horrible creak.

He started towards her.

“We’re getting you out of here. I’m so sorry.”

And he was, he could count on both his hands how many times he’d apologized to someone since his games, but he really was.

The wheezy laugh halted his movement as he looked at the shell of a woman before him with something akin to apprehension in his eyes.

“You aren’t real.” She gave a cracked smile, her eyes slightly glazed as she looked at him.

What? What the hell was she talking about?

“I am real. I’m here. I’m sorry it took so long, my God what…you look…”

He tried to be comforting, but that was something he wasn't very good at. He almost caught himself describing how horrible she looked to her, but he got the feeling she already knew. He tried to command his feet to keep moving towards her but they stayed glued to the bloodstained floor.

“You think you’re so smart. You always miss something. I know it isn’t really him, so just hit me already and get on with it.” Effie said in that same horrible voice.

He couldn't help the flinch. What the hell? What had they done to her?

“I’m not gonna hit you. I’m getting you out of here. You need a doctor.”

He meant for it to come out in a coaxing manner, but instead it came out brash and argumentative as it usually did. He cursed himself, he couldn’t even go five minutes without getting into an argument with her. He was starting to get frustrated with that unstable laugh she kept letting out.

“Effie, come on-“

He’d had enough. His feet finally decided to start moving again and he tried to reach under her arms, intending to scoop her into his own considering he highly doubted she could walk right now. But he’d barely made contact with her before the screaming began

“No! No, stop it! Don’t touch me!” She screeched 

His hands flew away from her like she was fire and he’d been burned. He held up his hands, feeling slightly like he was trying to calm a startled dog. In a way he supposed he was. The absolute terror and hopelessness in her eyes caught him off guard, making his heart wrench painfully. She was still begging him not to hurt her, placing her hands out in front of her as if they would shield her.

“Effie- Sweetheart, no one is going to hurt you. We just wanna get you to a doctor.”

He tried again, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He thought he sounded much more placating this time but she wouldn’t stop mumbling.

“Nonononononono”

God, he wanted to find those prison guards and kill them all over again. Slower this time. Maybe they’d save him one. The unapologetic brutality of the thought scared him, but he filed it away into the “things to think about at a time that isn’t now” category. 

“I think you should let us take her. She seems to be reacting badly to you.” One of the soldiers said to him. Haymitch couldn't recall his name.

“Absolutely fucking not.” He was angry, hurt, sad and confused and the whirlwind of suppressed emotion was coming to a boil.

“Listen, she's just going to keep freaking out. Once we get her to a doctor I’m sure she’ll be in a better state of mind.” The same man tried reasoning.

For some reason Haymitch highly doubted that. But he swallowed his pride anyways and walked out the door.  
………………………..

“Can we see her? Where is she?” He had been bombarded with questions from Katniss and Peeta as soon as they'd found out.

The two looked like they'd been put through hell and back already. Frankly he was shocked they’d been allowed out of medical so quickly, but he supposed there were no two people more stubborn that them. Except Effie maybe. 

“I, uh, I’m not sure thats such a good idea. You didn't see her, she was pretty bad. She didn’t seem to think any of this was real. Don’t wanna overwhelm her too much, ya know?” He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.

Peeta deflated but Katniss just nodded her head in understanding.

“You’ll let us know when she's ready for visitors?” She asked, although it wasn't exactly a question.

“Yeah. Will do. Now you two rest up, I don’t wanna hear about you being out of bed alright?”

The smirks and smart remarks he got were worth it.  
……………………..

He didn’t think he’d ever felt this much guilt before. Not with Maysilee, not even about his family. The beeping of the heart monitor was a steady comfort to him, but she looked far too small in that hospital bed. He was right though, her natural hair was blonde. It was growing back unevenly and in chunks and he just knew how much she’d hate it when she woke up. The dirt and blood had been scrubbed out of her hair and off her skin, although it didn't do much to help her face. It was still black and blue and her whole body had been covered in bandages. They’d had to re-break her leg to re-set it since it had healed improperly, and although he knew it was for her benefit it didn’t stop him from glaring at the doctor at the announcement.

The chair was uncomfortable, but he’d been through worse. He had been coming here for about a week now, sitting at her bedside and reading some boring book about tying knots he’d gotten from Annie. He didn’t wanna think about her right now. Didn’t want to think about Finnick, or any of them.

His attention was drawn to the slight raising of the beeping on the heart monitor, and when he looked up from his book he was shocked to see Effie blinking heavily at him. He set his book down, forgoing a bookmark, and sat up straighter.

“Effie…” He wanted to ask her so many things. Did she hate him? Does she know how sorry he is? Is she upset about her hair?

Instead he settles on 

“How are you feeling? The kids wanna come see you but they are pretty banged up as it is, I told ‘em to rest until you were feeling a little better.”

It was silent for a long moment and Haymitch didn’t miss the irony in that. Normally it was her trying to fill the quiet room with chatter and conversation. She seemed to be staring him down, slowly examining every part of his face and moving down to the rest of his body. He couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable at the silence and the searching glare.

“Hey…uh, what are you looking at?” He asked, cursing the nervous tone in his voice. He was Haymitch Abernathy, he wasn't nervous.

“Looking for the mistake” she responded, as if that should explain everything.

It didn't. 

“What do you mean? Mistake?” He couldn't figure out what she was talking about. Was she looking for a mistake in his clothing? For a new scar after the battle? Was her head just rattled?

“Yeah. You guys always mess up. You forget something. I’m impressed, you got his eyes right this time. His scar. Even the smell but there has to be something.” Her eyes met his for a moment but then continued their scrutinization.

This again. A part of him was uneasy at the thought that the Capital had used his image to torture her in some way shape or form, but most of him was just frustrated. 

“You aren’t there anymore. We came and got you out of there, you are resting here at District 13. The doctor should be by soon. What can I do to prove it to you?” He needed her to believe him so they could get on with their lives. He couldn't apologize if she didn't even think it was him.

She just shook her head and continued her staring. He racked his brain, trying to think of some memory to prove his identity to her.

“The first time I ever met you, you were wearing a ridiculous pink wig that had different colored balls stuck in it. It was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. That prove it's me?”

He remembered that day vividly. The announcement of a new escort for District 12. He hated her immediately, her pompous attitude and her gaudy fashion and her dramatics. Just another Capital lapdog here to babysit him. It took him a while, years even, but he eventually warmed up to her. Got to know her. He saw her cry over every tribute’s death, saw her work 23 hour days to try in vain to obtain sponsors for their tributes while he drank away his sorrows. It slowly grew into a friendship, as begrudging as it may have been, and then Katniss and Peeta came along and everything changed for the better. They grew closer, they were a team as she called it, and suddenly her gaudy hair and bright smile weren't as irritating as before.

“That was televised. Anyone could know that.” She argued

She had a point. He thought some more.

“Okay, fine. Last year for my birthday you got me a watch and told me I could use it since I’m always late to shit. Then I threw it away.”

That was another fond memory, and one of the few times he got to see her underlying wit instead of the ditzy Capital princess she pretended to be.

“I gave that to him at a sponsor party. It was pretty public.” She glared.

He didn't miss the use of “him”. She still didn't believe he was who he said he was. There had to be something, the alcohol hazed memories flickered through his head like a slideshow.

“The last time you saw me, in real life I mean not as some fucking hallucination, I kissed you on the cheek before I left.” He let his temper loose just a bit with that one and tried to rein it back in, but her next retort snapped a fragile thread in him.

“Security cameras. I’m sure you’ve gone over all the surveillance footage.”

“Goddamnit, Effie!” His fist hit the table with a loud bang and he immediately regretted it as she jumped out of her skin and squeezed her eyes shut, hands out in front of her again and heart monitor speeding up in fear.

“Shit- I- Effie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I’m terrible at this.” He braced his head in his hands. He should just go, he wasn't helping anything. It was his fault she was like this to begin with.

“Okay.” She spoke up, heart monitor slowing a bit

“Okay?” He was bewildered but a slight seed of hope planted itself inside of him, had he convinced her?

“If you’re real, then I’m either dead or I’ve finally gone crazy. I hope I’m not dead, because that means you’re dead too. I wouldn’t mind if I’m crazy. I wouldn’t hurt anymore.” Her eyes moved to the upper left corner in the way she always did when she was deep in thought.

The frustration returned. He didn't want to read into that last bit too much, that would come much later when he was laying in bed and lost in his own thoughts.

“What- no, Effie you aren't dead or crazy. I told you, we got you out of there. They can’t hurt you anymore, I swear. You’ve got a whole district of people they’d have to get through and even then I guarantee they couldn’t get through me.”

He meant it too. He was a coward, a drunkard, and it was true he’d blindsided her and caused her all this pain, but he’d be damned if he let anything else happen to her. They were a team. Or at least he still hoped they were. Maybe she wouldn't want to be one anymore. He wouldn't blame her.

He almost reached out to grab her hand before he remembered himself and pulled away. The silence stretched on and he wondered if this was how she had felt every time she’d tried to start a conversation with him and he’d shut her out. It was awful. He had to think, there had to be something to prove to her he was real. He stuck his hand in his pocket out of nervous habit, and froze when he felt cool metal touch his fingertips. Of course! He stood, ignoring her curious gaze as he pulled the bracelet out and presented it to her.

“Wait- here, look. This prove I’m me yet?” He sounded almost too eager.

She slowly took it and it was quiet for a long while as she turned it over and over in her hands and stared at it with that glazed look in her eye. Finally, she looked up and her eyes seemed ever so slightly clearer.

“Haymitch?” She sounded unsure and childlike but Haymitch’s heart could have soared.

Relief flooded him, leaving him with a giddy feeling now that she recognized him. He wanted to hug her, to apologize, to catch her up on everything, to tell her they were free now. Instead he just gave her a small smile and a heartfelt

“Hey, sweetheart.”

He didn't expect her heart rate to raise exponentially or for her breath to start coming faster and faster as her eyes darted from left to right. He knew what this was, he’d had plenty before. He couldn't help his alarmed tone as he tried to bring her back to Earth from her panic attack

“Hey-“

He was interrupted by a doctor and two nurses practically running in the room.

“This is exactly why I was against you visiting her! Look what you’ve done! She isn’t ready for this, I told you that and you ignored me like always-“ the doctor was yelling as the nurses hurried to secure Effie, to stop her from hurting herself.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me or her or any of this!” he could help but yell back, tried to find the words to explain that he needed this. He needed to see her. To apologize and reassure himself that she was alive and real.

The flash of a needle and some more yelling were exchanged and Effie’s heart rate went down. He looked over to find her sleeping, passed out from some sort of drug they gave her no doubt. With that spectacle over he had only one thought, get out of here. Run.

So he pushed past the doctor and through the doors, already taking out his flask as he did so.  
………………………

After another loud argument with the doctor, a promise from him and a guarantee of credibility from Peeta, he was allowed back in to sit by Effie’s bed. He was there when her eyes started to open again, book long forgotten.

“I had to promise to behave myself” he joked. She didn’t seem as panicked or scared as the last time she woke up, and this time she looked at him with some hint of vulnerability in her eyes.

“I really am sorry, Effie. We never meant for any of this to happen, you’ve gotta believe me.” He couldn't get the apology out fast enough. He’d wanted to say it since the moment they left her behind, he’d said it more than once when they’d found her but she had been under the impression he was a hallucination so he didn't count those times.

The silence was becoming a familiar companion between the two of them, but it still made Haymitch uncomfortable. 

“I get if you don’t wanna talk to me, or see me, and I’ll go if you want me to but I had to make sure you were gonna make it…” 

Who even was he anymore? He was pretty sure he’d never spoken his mind with that much emotion in front of her before. Somehow he couldn't find it in himself to care, something in him felt free now that they were out from under Snow’s thumb. Something felt more honest.

He couldn't take the silence anymore. He needed her to say something. Anything.

“Please. Say something.” He practically begged.

She opened her mouth and he tensed in anticipation

“Go.”

The word rung out and hit him square in the chest. He knew she’d be angry, knew she’d likely never want to see him again, but he still wasn't quite prepared for it. Still, he’d achieved what he came here for. She was alive. She was on the mend. He could deal with this. It was his own fault after all.

So he got up from his chair, legs aching from sitting in the same position for hours, and gave her one last look before he walked out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is slightly AU with the timeline and of course the happenings after the war. Most of the time I like to ignore Mockingjay and pretend that Finnick and Annie are all well and good and raising a happy baby together.

Haymitch hadn’t come back to see her since she told him to leave. She didn’t quite know how to feel about that. On one hand she was glad he was keeping his distance while she tried to figure herself out, on the other hand she was a bit irked that this was the one time he listened to her without argument. 

Peeta had come to see her after that, just sitting with her and talking to her about whatever had been going on outside the four walls of her hospital room. Sometimes he talked about his own imprisonment. He apologized too, although she wanted to reassure him that he had nothing to be sorry about. She would if she could. It wasn’t that she didn’t try to speak, she tried to talk but the words just wouldn’t come out. The doctor had called it “Selective Mutism”. If she could talk she would argue it wasn’t selective at all. The doctor had sounded confident that her voice would return to her in time, that it was just her brain trying to keep up with the trauma of the situation. It had been months after all, months of speaking to no one but her captors, months without a casual conversation or a friendly voice.

She appreciated Peeta being there, but sometimes she liked when Katniss visited just a little more. She didn’t visit nearly as often, Peeta had explained to her that she would be gone soon, confined to District 12 because of something that happened during the war. She tried to listen, but mention of the war made her tune out ever so slightly. Katniss didn’t ask questions. She didn’t force conversation, she didn’t coddle her with words or fuss over her or look at her with sympathy in her eyes. The few times she visited she had just sat there, sometimes Effie would reach out and hold her hand and smile at her, trying to convey with her eyes how proud she was. The only apology she got from Katniss was a simple “I’m sorry” but Effie was actually glad she hadn’t gone on and on like many of her other guests.

Johanna Mason visited once, although she didn’t know if she should count it as one. All she really did was stick her head in just past the door and comment “glad to see you made it out of that shithole” before going on her way. That suited Effie just fine.

Annie Cresta was a surprise. Well she supposed it was Annie Odair now. Peeta had told her what happened to Finnick and her heart sank for the girl in front of her. She would be the first to admit she had scoffed to herself when Annie came out of that arena. It couldn’t possibly be that bad as to drive a girl mad, could it? She wishes she could take those thoughts back now. She understood on a personal level now, and she had a newfound admiration for her strength. She had half a mind to ask her how she did it, well if she could that was.

She spoke quietly, sometimes about Finnick. Sometimes about Mags. Sometimes about the baby in her stomach. Sometimes she just sat and hummed to herself while she read or tied knots into a very frayed looking rope. Effie was reminded then of just how much this war had cost them. Annie was the only one of her family left with Finnick and Mags gone. Effie didn't even know if her parents were still alive.

“I told them you were in there.” She said quietly one day while she was working at the rope. 

Effie must have looked confused because she elaborated. 

“I told them you were in the prison too as soon as I saw you weren't with us.” 

Effie felt traitorous tears well up in her eyes and she looked down at her hands. Annie continued

“Haymitch was beside himself. He won’t admit it, but as soon as I told him I’d seen you and you were alive he had a spark to him I haven’t seen in a while.”

Effie didn’t quite know how to take that. She and Haymitch were friends, and very tentative ones at that, she just couldn’t imagine him jumping for joy at the news that she was alive. He felt guilty, thats why he was so concerned. Sometimes she did blame him for it, but other times…other times she understood. For now though she wanted to be angry, she didn’t know what she’d do with herself if she wasn’t. She’d be lost.

The next time Annie visited she came bearing gifts. A notebook and pen, for her to communicate with until she got her voice back, she had explained. Effie wanted to hit herself for not thinking of it, actually she wanted to hit the doctors for nothing thinking of it too.

The first thing she wrote in her book was a shaky ‘thank you’.

The last time Annie visited she told Effie she was leaving.

‘Where will you go?’ She wrote in her notebook.

“With Jo. She said she wants to help me with little Finn. I can’t quite imagine her with an infant, but Finnick was important to her too and I’d be glad for the help.” She explained.

Effie felt better knowing Annie had someone to look out for her, she tried to ignore the sting in her heart as she considered she didn’t know who that person might be for herself. 

“Would you come visit after the baby is born?” Annie offered.

Effie knew it was probably only to be polite or to cheer her up, but she couldn't help but beam and nod. Annie let her rest her hand on her small baby bump before she left.

Maybe it was intentional, maybe it wasn't, but with the offer of visiting the new baby Effie had something to look forward to for the first time in a long time. On blank pages of her notebook she sketched small baby outfits, planning out the colors and designs. She didn’t even know if it would be doable in the post-war situation, but she would try. It would be the least she could do as a thank you.

Katniss came to say goodbye along with Peeta. They gave her a gently hug and told her to come visit whenever she could. She smiled and nodded but she still felt a little hollow inside, almost like their invitation was a formality. She was feeling that way a lot lately.

An hour later Haymitch came in, looking as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him.

“I know you don’t wanna see me right now, but I wanted to say goodbye. I’m going with the kids to District 12, look after them and everything.” He hadn’t moved from the door and seemed to be prepared to turn around and leave before Effie held up a hand to stop him. 

She looked down at her pen and paper, she didn’t know what to write. What to say to him. With that small encouragement he took tiny steps into the room and towards the chair next to her bed. She was still trying to think of what to write when he spoke again.

“Where will you go?” He asked gruffly.

She was being discharged in a day or two and that was all she’d been thinking about. No one had been able to get in contact with her family, the block her apartment was on had been destroyed and to be quite frank she didn’t have many genuine friends that would be willing to take in a mute, broke, torture victim. 

‘I don’t know.’ She wrote on the paper, turning to show him.

He didn’t seem to like that answer if the scowl on his face was anything to go by. There was a long silence, he opened his mouth a few times as if to start a sentence before shutting it again.

“I talked with the kids. They both have more than enough room in their houses, wanted to know if you wanted to stay with them for a while. I do too, for that matter. Don’t think you wanna shack up with me though.” He tried joking at the end but it fell a little flat.

Effie felt a spike of defensiveness, she didn’t want to be the charity case. The woman they had inadvertently gotten tortured so now they had to look after her. But when she thought about it she didn’t have any other options, so she swallowed her pride and wrote quickly.

‘Just for a little while.’

She thought it might have been a hint of relief in his eyes, but she wasn’t able to trust everything she was seeing nowadays. 

“Good. They’ll be happy to hear that. I’ll see you in 12 in a few days then.”  
And with that eloquent and smooth goodbye he stood up and left the room.

Effie sighed, one of the only sounds she could still make right now, and buried herself under her hospital blankets.


	4. Chapter 4

She asked him to go so he did. Every once in a while he found himself walking by her hospital room and just waiting outside the door, having an internal battle within himself on opening the door or not. His rational side always won out. Now was a pretty shitty time for the alcohol stocks to run low, so he had to ration what he had. Well, he had tried but it hadn’t lasted very long. Peeta mentioned to him that Effie wasn’t speaking, that somehow she _couldn’t _speak, and he drank his entire stash in one night.

Most days he could distract himself with busywork. There was lots to be done now that the war was over, lots to try to patch up before they let the new government take over. He found himself harping at the kids more than once to go finish recovering and to let him do all the work, and he didn’t miss the irony in that. That was usually Effie’s job. The kids had taken to sarcastically calling him ‘dad’ because of that, and he scowled every time but he couldn't deny the fondness behind it. He was a shit father, but he was what they had.

  
Katniss didn't speak about Effie but he knew she had gone to see her a few times. He was glad she didn’t bring her up, didn’t hint about reconciling with her like Peeta did. He just wanted to live in a world where Effie didn't exist.

As soon as he thought that he wanted to take it back. He wanted Effie to exist. He just didn’t know what to do with _this _Effie. Maybe it was selfish or hypocritical of him, but he found himself at a loss with how to handle this new Effie that had come out of that prison cell. He doubted she did either.

Johanna Mason barged into his room one day, but she was holding a few bottles of scotch so any ire he may have felt was immediately forgiven.

“Man, that lady looks even more shit than I did when I came out of that place. And thats saying something.” She retorted, her words slurring slightly.

Haymitch didn't have to ask who she was talking about.

“Yeah. Well. She was there a bit longer than you.” He looked off, hoping she’d pick up on the hint that he didn't want to talk about this.

She didn't.

“Gotta be honest, didn't know she had it in her. She was one of the few Capitol people I didn't mind though. Not to mention you, Katniss and Peeta seemed to like her well enough.”

He just grunted in what could be taken as affirmation and took another large swig of his bottle as she went on.

“Heard she wasn’t talking.” Jo commented, eyeing him out of her peripheral. 

“Wouldn’t know.” Another swig.

“What? You haven’t gone to see her? The way you were acting when we went to storm the prison I figured you’d be there 24/7.” It was half teasing and half surprised.

“I did. She doesn't wanna see me. Told me to go. So I did.” He ignored the second half of her sentence.

Jo blew a raspberry into her palm.

“Since when have you ever listened to anyone about anything in your entire life?” She scoffed.

He just took another swig because he didn't have a good answer for that.

“Love is weird” he tried to pretend not to hear her mumble under her breath as she finished off her bottle.

……………………………………………..

Surprisingly Katniss was the one who brought it up.

“Does anyone know where Effie is going after all this?”

Haymitch stopped packing up what little he had and turned to look at her. Peeta was sitting in a chair with his own meager belongings already packed, the two just waiting for him.

“No, I don’t. Haymitch?” Peeta asked, turning to him

“How the hell should I know? She doesn’t talk to me.” He turned back to his bag and started shoving more clothes into it.

“Don’t talk to her much either…” he thought he heard Peeta mutter to Katniss, but he didn’t feel like picking a fight today.

“She’s getting cleared to leave the hospital soon, right?” Katniss egged.

She clearly had an idea she was getting at, and he wished she would just hurry up already. His head was pounding, his night of drinking with Johanna hadn’t been enough to keep the withdrawal symptoms away for long.

“Yeah. I’ve been worried though, about her voice. She still hasn’t been able to talk. I’m just concerned about her wandering around like that without someone to be there for her.” Peeta did, indeed, look concerned when Haymitch turned around again.

“She probably has some old Capitol friends around or something.” He justified with a wave of his hand.

Katniss and Peeta exchanged a look that said they weren't so sure.

“Maybe she could stay with one of us? Our houses are too big as it is.” Katniss finally got to the point.

He didn't know if she felt bad about what had happened to Effie, if she just didn’t want to be alone after all of this, but he had to admit the idea was appealing.

She clearly needed looking after, but he also knew she was going to fight it tooth and nail.

“I don’t care. Just let me know what she says.” He finished zipping up his bag and paused when he noted the silence in the room.

He slung it over his shoulder and turned to face the kids, not liking the way they were both looking at him expectantly.

“What? No.” He shook his head, immediately regretting it as his head throbbed. It felt like his brain was hitting each side of his skull with the movement.

“You two need to talk. Work out whatever is going on.” Peeta egged gently.

“Whatever is going on? Whats going on is I got her locked up and tortured and now she doesn’t wanna talk to me. Sounds about right to me.” He argued. He wasn’t backing down.

“_We _got her locked up and tortured if thats how you want to play it.” Katniss glared. Didn’t look like she was backing down either.

“Its different. You two’re kids. It ain’t a kid’s job to take care of their adults. Not to mention you were in the arena when all this shit went down. I was in the room with her and I walked out.” He glared back.

“You wanted to tell her. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t just hand her over to the Capitol and say “Here you go, please interrogate this woman’” He noted Peeta had a hard time saying the word ‘torture’. He was getting better at it, but he would still substitute words in as though it made his memories more bearable.

“Might as well have.” It was their turn to pretend to have a hearing problem this time as he grumbled under his breath.

“Haymitch.” Katniss locked onto him with a stare, a half chastising half pleading look that Effie pulled on him a lot.

“Fine.” He threw his bag down on the floor a little harder than he probably should have and walked past the two, not looking at what he was sure were shit eating grins on their faces.

He was at her door before he was ready, and he spent a good ten minutes just standing there with his feet glued to the floor. What was going to be her reaction when he walked in? Would she have a panic attack again? Throw something at him? Scream at the top of her lungs (something he was told she could still do)?

It was none of the above. When he opened the door and stepped in her eyes locked onto his and she just stared at him. No words. No sounds. No throwing things. She didn’t have a heart monitor anymore and her bruises had faded significantly. He was starting to see the familiar face that was underneath all the blood and discolored skin when he found her. He had nightmares about a lot of things, but the ones about that face were filed into the “things to think about at a time that isn't now” cabinet along with most of his other thoughts about her.

“I know you don’t wanna see me right now, but I wanted to say goodbye. I’m going with the kids to District 12, look after them and everything.”

He figured he shouldn’t start with “Hey Effie, just wanted to let you know I want you to move in with me because I still feel incredibly guilty about all this and I just want you to forgive me already so I can move on with my life”.

He hadn’t moved and was hanging onto the doorframe for dear life, and when it looked as though she wasn’t going to respond in any way he turned to leave. This was a stupid idea anyways.

Before he could she held up her hand and he slowly turned back to face her. She was looking down, a notepad and pen laying on her lap. Probably how she communicated for now. He took slow steps into the room and towards the chair at her bedside, the same one he had sat in when she told him to leave. He moved slowly, fully expecting her to kick him out at any moment, but he somehow made it to the chair without incident. She was still looking at the pad and pen so he decided to just get down to business.

“Where will you go?” He tried not to act as worried as he was. He figured she didn't want his pity.

He hoped she would write out that she was staying with a friend, or that her family had a mansion somewhere that she would live out the rest of her days in and never speak to him again, or to stop worrying and that she would be fine. Instead she just wrote

“I don’t know.”

The pang in his heart was probably just heartburn from the suspicious lunch they had had that day.

He opened his mouth, then shut it. How was he going to phrase this? Opened his mouth. Shut it. Come on Haymitch. He had won the Hunger Games. He fought in a war. He can ask her this one damn question.

“I talked with the kids. They both have more than enough room in their houses, wanted to know if you wanted to stay with them for a while. I do too, for that matter. Don’t think you wanna shack up with me though.” He finally got out.

His tone was joking at the end, but he half hoped she would write out “I’d love to stay with you, Haymitch! I’m also not angry with you at all and don’t blame you for any of this and I can also speak just fine! It was a joke this whole time!”

Instead he watch her face turn from a defensive glare, to a pained look, to resignation.

“Just for a little while” the paper read.

He wasn’t expecting the relief he felt at all. His “things to think about at a time that isn't now” cabinet was getting pretty full as he shoved that thought in there too.

“Good. They’ll be happy to hear that. I’ll see you in 12 in a few days then.”

He probably stood up too fast and strode towards the door, but he couldn't take being in the room with her anymore. He let out a big breath he didn't know he was holding once he was outside, shaking his head a bit to refocus himself. Guess it was time to tell the kids they were having a houseguest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I said this is a little bit of an AU as far as thee timeline and small details go! In this version of my story Peeta and Katniss are currently living in their own houses (for now) and Peeta has still been working on his recovery. I also hope I'm not writing Katniss OOC, but I read so many fics where she and Effie just never interact and I just need them to all be a family for a little while, okay? >.<

When Effie stepped off the train platform at District 12 two days later she still felt wobbly. Her physical therapy in the hospital had helped, but she still felt a little weak on her feet after so much disuse. She clutched the handle of her one bag like a lifeline. She didn’t think she’d ever traveled so light in her life.

It was almost ironic. The last time she was here she had at least twelve suitcases, she was dressed to the nines with the most fashionable wig and dress available at the time. Now as she stepped off the train she had her single bag, a long sleeved grey dress that a nurse had been kind enough to give her and her short blonde hair just now touching the tips of her ears.

She was expecting the stares. What she wasn’t expecting was to see Katniss Everdeen waiting for her down the steps.

It wasn't that she was disappointed, she was thrilled to see her of course, but she figured they would send Peeta. He was by far the closest to her out of the three now that she wasn't quite sure where she and Haymitch stood.

“Effie. It's good to see you.” She greeted, short and sweet.

Effie gave her a warm smile and thankfully Katniss understood and gave a small smile back.

They were halfway to the houses where the three victors lived when she asked, writing on her notepad quickly to show her

“Where are the boys?”

She wasn't expecting a welcoming party, but her curiosity got the better of her. Was she to be staying with Katniss? Was that why she had been the one to retrieve her?

“They are waiting for us. They just had a little bit of a…disagreement.” The way Katniss finished the sentence told Effie it wasn’t exactly a _little _disagreement.

She understood as soon as she saw them. The tension was thick, Haymitch with his arms crossed glaring at the boy and Peeta staring straight back without backing down. As soon as he saw Effie though, he broke out into a grin.

“Effie! I’m so happy to see you!” He walked towards her and hesitated a little, she closed the distance and gave him a gentle hug.

It really was wonderful to see them all again. Whole and standing, not covered in blood. It had been a while since she had seen them all like that.

“Eff.” Haymitch greeted, Effie nodded back politely.

“So, it's entirely up to you of course, but I’d love to have you stay with me.” Peeta offered warmly.

Effie felt a little less uneasy at the offer, and she nodded and smiled warmly. Peeta grinned again.

“Perfect! Let's take your things up, I’ve been working on lunch.” He offered to take her bag, she accepted although it was quite light. She didn’t have much.

She followed him up the familiar stairs, ever Victor’s house looked the same, the difference was in the room decor. Hers was rather plain, a queen bed in the center of the room with a nightstand to the side and a dresser in the corner.

“You can do whatever you’d like with the room, I haven’t really had anyone to use it.” Peeta admitted sheepishly. Effie smiled and wrote quickly

‘Its lovely. Thank you.’ She couldn’t convey how much she meant those words.

“I’ll leave you to settle in, when you’re ready I’ll have lunch downstairs. Katniss is going to be joining us and I think she's working on roping Haymitch into it.”

She didn't miss the tight smile at the other man’s name.

It didn’t take her long to settle in. She placed the three outfits she currently had (courtesy of some very kind nurses who quickly realized she had no real clothing other than hospital scrubs) in the dresser and journeyed downstairs.

She almost cried at the sight. Peeta was in the kitchen serving helpings of food onto four plates, Katniss and Haymitch sitting at the table making painfully awkward smalltalk. She felt like they were finally a team again. Even if it was just for a little while, even if it was just until they stopped worrying over her, they were a team.

“Effie?” Katniss drew her attention and she realized then how she must look. She blinked back the tears in her eyes and smiled, writing out a quick apology and reassurance she was okay.

They were alive. They were all alive. They had all made it. Effie genuinely didn't think she would get to see this again. She had been ready, so ready to die in that prison cell. She was glad she hadn't.

Peeta had made them a simple lunch, but it was the best thing Effie thought she had ever eaten. It didn't take much to impress her nowadays, but Peeta had always had a talent in the kitchen anyways. Every once in a while she would pause in her eating to write a response or an addition to the conversation in her notebook to show them. It was a little time consuming, but the conversation still flowed somewhat naturally. The tension slowly dissipated between the two men and Effie couldn't be more glad of it. She was tired of fighting.

She wasn't able to eat much, the doctor had told her that her stomach was still recovering from her time at the prison. She was assured that she would getting used to eating full meals soon, although she had also been assured that her voice would return and she was starting to lose hope of that.

Time passed quickly, Haymitch had taken his leave after lunch and the afternoon had been spent in the garden. Katniss stayed to watch Peeta plant some more primroses before excusing herself to go hunt. Effie sat in a chair, she didn't know much about gardening or she would offer to help. She might have offered to help anyways if it didn't feel like her muscles were on the verge of giving out all the time. She just sat, enjoying the sunshine and the crisp air that came with emerging Autumn.

Peeta stood up and clapped his hands together to rid them of some dirt. The sun was slowly starting to set behind them and Effie had nearly finished another sketch of a baby outfit in her notepad. She had been pleasantly surprised by what she had come up with so far.

“Shall we?” Peeta teasingly offered an arm to her and she accepted as they wandered inside the huge house.

Some leftovers for dinner (still as good as the first time) and soon enough it was off to bed. Effie’s stomach lurched and she suddenly wished she hadn't eaten so much for dinner. She hated bedtime. She hated sleeping. She hated lurching awake to her own screams. She hated how her vocal cords could somehow produce those sounds, yet not a simple ‘hello’ or ‘I love you’.

Her only consolation was that Peeta seemed just as reluctant as she did. At least she wasn’t alone. Not anymore. She tucked herself into bed (it was almost too soft, she’d been used to sleeping on far more uncomfortable things) and fell asleep much faster than she was expecting.

Four hours later she awoke to a scream. Bolting awake she sat straight up in bed, unable to remember what her nightmare had been about but willing her lungs to stop. That was when she realized, it wasn’t her scream.

It was Peeta’s.


	6. Chapter 6

Haymitch really couldn’t help it. The last two days he had been so deep into his bottle that he barely remembered his own name, and that was exactly how he liked it. He had been relieved to be home, but he wasn’t expecting the horrible memories that came with it.

The first night he slept he woke in the morning and his heart seized up. It was just like any other day, for a moment he thought that this had all been some sick dream and that Effie was about to come bursting through the door with a mind-numbing smile and tell him it was time to get up and get ready for the reaping. 

This is real. We are free. He kept repeating it to himself over and over again, but even then a little part of him expected to wake up any minute now. It was easier to drink. To forget it all. To forget the death, the smell of burning flesh, the friends he let die, the sight of Effie curled in that cell, giggling in that horrifyingly unhinged way she had.

He had promised he would remain here as Katniss’s chaperone, but he knew better than anyone that she didn't really need one. He on the other hand…

The damn kids just wouldn't leave him alone. They came over at meal times, Peeta usually holding a basket of something smelling delicious. The idle chatter came slowly, he was relieved to find he hadn't been the only one disturbed by the familiarity of his surroundings. 

Then it had been time for Effie to arrive, and things promptly went to shit. He’d been dragged out of the house by a very insistent Katniss, and they had met up with Peeta between their respective homes.

“I was thinking, maybe Effie should stay with me?” Peeta began, phrasing it more as a question than a statement.

“It would be nice to have someone around. Not to mention that I kind of understand what she's going through. Not that you two don’t, but…we were together. At least for a little while from what I can remember.” He sounded a little unsure the more he spoke but Haymitch’s mind was overworking itself through his hangover.

“No.”

He didn’t like this. Peeta was recovering quickly, but he was still prone to panic attacks where he didn’t know where he was. They could often get violent and to be quite frank he didn’t want Effie alone with him. He trusted the boy, of course he did, but he didn’t entirely trust his mind when it wasn’t thinking straight.

The boy in question crossed his arms, looking a bit offended.

“Why’s that?” There was a challenge in his voice. 

“Listen kid, I get what you’re trying to say. Really, I do. But with how you’ve been lately-“

“How I’ve been?”

Screw this.

“You lose it sometimes, Peeta. You hurt people. I know you don’t mean to so don’t go getting that look on your face, but Effie isn’t like me or Katniss. She can’t hold you back.” Blunt honesty was always his thing anyways.

“I think you’d be surprised by what Effie can do. And she isn’t in any danger here. My episodes have been getting further and further apart and even when I have them I can usually tell where I am right away. She’ll be fine.” He sounded a bit defensive. Of Effie or himself Haymitch didn't know, or maybe it was both.

“No.” He was putting his foot down.

“Where do you think she should stay then?” He could feel a full on fight coming. He couldn't find it in himself to stop it though.

“Katniss-“

“I actually think Peeta’s right. I…I don’t know how to help her, Haymitch. I’ve never been good at that stuff. He’s right, he gets what she went through in a way you and I don’t.” Katniss interrupted.

He glared at her, but she just stared defiantly back. Traitor.

“See? Nothing to be worried about.” Peeta’s tone was cheery but his posture was anything but. His feet were shoulder length apart and his arms were crossed tightly.

“I’ll head to the station while you two figure this out. She’ll be here soon so get on with it.” Katniss instructed (although Haymitch had a feeling her swift departure had more to do with the tension in the air than an arriving train).

“It isn’t safe.” Haymitch turned his attention back to Peeta and crossed his arms.

“And it's better with you? Don’t think I haven't seen your episodes too. Tell me, who was it that had a nightmare and ended up holding a knife to my throat that one time?” The other boy challenged. 

“You shouldn’t have woken me up. You never wake up a sleeping victor, you know that.” His anger spiked and it showed in his voice. He wouldn’t hurt Effie. Even when she’d wake him up when he was hungover for important events he couldn’t hurt her. Damn perfume was so strong it snapped him out of it every time.

“What do you suggest then? She live with you? If she wants to then fine, but from what you’ve told me it doesn’t sound like it would be her first choice.” He continued.

Haymitch steeled his gaze. That comment had been designed to sting, and it had done its job. It was out of character for Peeta, but he had been more assertive since his captivity. One reason he didn't want Effie alone with him while he was having a nightmare. It stung the most because he was right, though. Effie wouldn’t want to live with him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to live with Effie either. But she certainly wouldn’t be alright with it, not after everything that had happened between the two of them. He wasn't going to pretend like he thought she was going to forgive him, he was just going to have to make his peace with that. Maybe he didn't deserve it anyways.

He was still glaring in silence when Peeta’s face broke out into a smile.

“Effie! I’m so happy to see you!” 

Sure enough when he turned around there she was. Her grey dress was too big for her, he could still see her collarbone poking out much too far for his liking. He’d never seen her with so little luggage before, but the carpetbag she carried was all she had on her. Her blonde hair was still choppy and shirt, but there seemed to have been an attempt at cleaning up the style at least. It was still odd to see her like this, no makeup, no wig, no horrible dresses. 

He watched Effie give Peeta a soft squeeze and the longing he felt nearly hit him like a train. How long had it been since he’d had a hug? A real hug? How long had he pictured rescuing her in her cell and giving her one late at night, after all the planning and scheming. It was a ridiculous thought. One he was sure was because of the stress and lack of gentle human touch he’d had since the war started.

“Eff.” He inclined his head in her direction and she nodded back, her face guarded and stiff. He suspected his was too.

“So, it's entirely up to you of course, but I’d love to have you stay with me!” Peeta said happily, still encasing a hand over hers.

He could see the relief clear as day on her face and he couldn't help the pang of contempt her felt at Peeta being proved right.

“Perfect! Let's take your things up, I’ve been working on lunch.” The blonde boy held out his hand to take her bag, she seemed surprised and a little hesitant but handed it over anyways. 

The pair disappeared into the house and Haymitch watched for a moment before turning to return to his own home.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you staying for lunch?” Katniss called after him.

“No way in hell, sweetheart.” He called over his shoulder. 

There was a hand on his wrist with lightning fast speed, Katniss forcing him to turn around to face her.

“You’re coming.” She commanded. Haymitch’s eyes narrowed. He had already lost one fight today, no damn way he was losing two.  
………………………….

He lost. 

That was how he found himself sitting at Peeta’s dining table next to Katniss as the former fumbled around the kitchen. The air was still thick in the room, and Katniss was making forced conversation with him in some attempt to distract him from it.

“I’m not gonna fight with the kid while she's here, relax.” He muttered to her, just in time for Effie to slowly move down the stairs.

His well trained eyes didn't miss how she seemed fatigued, how she shook a little with effort, how thin she still was. She stood at the bottom of the stairs and alarming tears started to well up in her eyes.

“Effie?” Katniss asked tentatively, the same tone she had used on Peeta at first. When she hadn't been sure.

Effie scrambled for that notepad she took to carrying around with her and wrote out a quick message, turning the paper so they could read it.  
‘I’m alright! My apologies.’

Haymitch counted to three and held his breath with the effort it took not to roll his eyes into the back of his skull. Of course she’d be like this. This was Effie Trinket after all, miss manners even after showing up looking like shaved skeleton. 

Dinner went by surprisingly fast. Effie didn't direct much talking (or writing) towards him, he didn't bother either. Despite that the tension in the air seemed to have dissipated. He didn't think he’d ever seen her enjoy food like that before. Even when eating Capitol food she usually found something to dislike, but this was like she had been given ambrosia. She didn’t eat much, he didn’t really expect her to, but the contented smile on her face when she finished was good enough for him. She was really going to have to start pushing her appetite a bit if she wanted to regain some of that weight.

By the time Haymitch was home again he had forgotten about the bottle of whiskey sitting on his bedside table. He popped the cap off and gave it a swig, but somehow he felt calmer than he had since he had gotten here a few days before. He shut his eyes, not bothering to change into something else, repeating his mantra as he felt asleep.

I’m safe.

We’re safe.

Katniss is safe.

Peeta is safe.

Effie is safe.

This is real.


End file.
